Snake in the Bedchamber
by Patience Spencer
Summary: "I felt aware of a punishment to be delivered on my head but that had been nothing I had done to incur punishment. . . I tried to shake it off. But it still lingered." Arleen, a common maid of the palace, stumbles onto a deadly secret and then finds herself in a game that may cost her everything. SPOILERS for Dark World
1. Chapter 1

I just saw Thor 2 and felt inspired to pick up fanfiction once again. I'll publish a few chapters and if people like it, I'll continue writing it.

WARNING this fanfiction will have Thor 2 SPOILERS

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"Arleen, darling, surely you can spare just a moment longer."

I summoned my best fake smile. To be frank, I hadn't wanted to spend a single moment with Fandral. But when someone who has honor and battles attached to his name asks for a drink, a serving and clean maid with no title, no deeds to her name has to obey.

"Please honorable warrior, I have rooms to clean and surely after the great saving of Asgard the lovely ladies would be delightful to hear your great stories. I, however, need to sweep the floor in this aftermath."

Fandral stroked his small beard. "You are right, the ladies would be impressed by a firsthand account of the aid I rendered in the saving of the universe."

I tried to keep my smile polite. From how I heard it, he hadn't had much to do at all. It had mainly been Prince Thor and the Midgard woman Jane Foster.

He drained his glass before raising it to me. "Thank you for the advice sweet maiden."

I gave a quick curtsey and scurried from the hall before he could request anything else. I knew that I should be thanking warriors like him that I was alive at all. After that frightful invasion by the dark elves all of Asgard had been cheering their victory. But I believe in what my mother used to say, once the warriors' work is done they needed to get out of the way so the rest of the common folk can clean the mess and get on with living.

I turned into the hallways leading to the royal chambers. After a quick detour into a room devoted to cleaning materials, I entered into the Allfather's bedchambers. Even now I remain stunned by the grandeur and beauty of the king's and queen's chamber. First, there was an anti-chamber with sitting chairs and a food table for guests. Beyond was a large chamber with a majestic bed and shelving on the walls for weapons, pictures, books and other intricate objects. Chambers branched off from the main room including a small training hall, a bathroom three times the size of my own small modest room, the chamber which the protective bed where Oiden would have his long sleep - but that door remain shut and locked until its use was necessary.

I was a child clinging to the skirts of my mother when I first beheld this room. The same wonder still filled me even though I had now seen many things in the palace displayed the same richness and care. I shook myself and when to work. This room had not been very damaged in the battle. The previously shattered windows had been replaced but I still found bits of broken stone and glass scattered to the corners and under the rugs which I shook out. From the windows, I could see the common folk far below rebuilding buildings and defenses of Asgard. If only our pride could be rebuilt as easily.

After I scrubbed down the bathroom and dusted the shelves and items lain there on, I noticed something out of place. On a grand desk with drawers and cabinets neatly filed with papers, scrolls and letters, a book lay. It lay cockeyed as if dropped when the Allfather was called away for something urgent. I walked towards it imagining our great leader as he strived through the mundane work that kept Asgard in peace.

I picked up the book and started to the shelves to return it when I noticed something odd. Ruins speckled the worn leather cover. I opened it and recognized the phrasing and diagrams. It was a book of magic. I frowned trying to recall a time when Oiden kept spell books in his room. It was far more like his lost son.

"Is there something wrong?"

A squeal escaped me and the book created a staccato beat against the stone floor. The Allfather stood not two strides from me, his eyes watching me carefully. I had never known him to move so quietly. Surely, it was impossible with the clicking and jangling armor.

"N-n-nothing Allfather." I hurriedly bowed then retrieved the book. "I c-came in to do my cleaning. I - I was just done. I'll get my things and leave."

I bowed again and headed to the thing I brought in and scooped them up. Halfway to the door, the Allfather called me back. I obeyed doing another bow, my mind rushing through the things that I might have or have not done.

He gestured to magic book I had not set done. "What is that might I ask?"

I looked down on it then quickly explained, "I wasn't stealing it! It j-just seems like a magic book. Probably . . ." I took a respectful tone, "I think it was Lo-Prince Loki's. I don't know how it might have into your room. I'll put it away, I know how his collection is sorted."

The Allfather sat in the chair at the grand desk. "You . . . know how his library collection is sorted? I hadn't known that there were people considerate enough to get to know him. He always had a hard time."

I thought I heard more bitterness than sadness in his voice. I thought a father would be sad about the problems of his son, even adopted. But then he might be bitter that his people had never been able to accept Loki.

"Yes, I used to clean his room because the other servants-" I stopped. Loki had died honorably according to Thor. It wouldn't be proper to bring up his misdeeds, especially to his father. Quickly I added, "I used to look at his collection of books often. I am a bit abashed to admit I borrowed a few when I knew him to be away. I always returned them. They were interesting and I enjoyed learning from them. I even tried out a few spells."

Then I realized I was babbling and shut my mouth. Hadn't my mother taught me how to address royals? Speak few words and never more than they needed or wanted to know. They weren't interested in having a conversation with a servant girl.

I bowed again, "By your leave my king."

"Give that here, child," The Allfather asked with his hand out for the book.

After confused hesitation, I handed it to him. He returned it to the spot it had been before.

"I am . . . trying to come to understand what I did to make Loki stray so far. Perhaps his old things will give my aching heart some peace."

I nodded but said nothing of it. Surely a straight up journal would help him more. Loki never left more than a note here or there in the margins of spell books like that to clarify meaning or suggest alternatives. But who was a serving girl to contradict a king?

"What was your name, child?"

"Arleen." I answered.

"That isn't an Aesir name I am familiar with."

I stared for a second before realizing that the Allfather wanted a conversation out of me. The warriors and those who had names of importance never sought anything like that out of me. The only thing they wanted was to have me listen to their tales of glory or make unwanted advances

"Uh, well- I suppose, it's not really Aesir. I don't know where my mother got it. And anyways she was Ljósálfr, a light elf."

"And your father?"

I swallowed, he had noticed that I lacked the true beauty and light of my mother's people. I allowed myself a second to make my voice light and unconcerned. "My mother never said."

"I see."

His fingers played with a corner of the book though the rest of him didn't realize it. I had never know the Allfather - in the glimpses I had seen him up close - to fidget. Perhaps the strain of losing his wife and son in the short amount of time unstabled him. I hope not too much, he still had his people to lead and protect.

"I shall not keep you from your work. Carry on."

I bowed and exited the room with my gear. After closing the door, I paused. A feeling washed over me that I couldn't describe. It was like I had forgotten to clean a room under my responsibility. But my day had barely begun so I couldn't have forgotten yet. I felt aware of a punishment to be delivered on my head but that had been nothing I had done to incur punishment. And I couldn't recall anything I had failed to do.

I tried to shake it off. But it still lingered.


	2. Chapter 2

What compelled me, only Heimdall could see. I stood in front of the lost prince's door. He had carved symbols in to this along with banging metal ribbon in patterns into the wooden door. Most thought it was a strange spell or a curse. It could have been, still few people would enter into here. Many servants believed or simply knew that Loki had a habit of leaving nasty surprises in this room. I remember when I was still young, a decade or two short of a hundred years ago when I was assigned to this room. I had been petrified by the stories I heard from other servants and trembling with fear that I would make some mistake and pay dearly. But my mother shook me and reminded me that I had braved worse and told me to be grateful that I had an opportunity.

I turned the handle. There was no anti chamber to this room. It opened straight into a magnificent bedroom decorated with green curtains and bed sheets. This front room had always been neatly kept like a portrait. Not that I could see most of it as the green curtains snuffed out all light desiring to come through the windows. In the bathroom, a side chamber where he practiced spells and the final chambers with the library collection was where I used to find most of the mess.

The memory of when I first entered this chamber floated back to me. It had been dark then too. The curtain had been left a crack open for a spear of light to cross the room and point at my feet. I remembered thinking that it was pointing at me to leave.

I had tentatively walked in when the door slammed. I had leapt and squealed in terror. The prince's laughter drew my eyes to where he sat on his bed a book deposited at his side.

He asked, "Are you the new cleaning girl?"

It had been the first time I had seen any of the royals up close, and every word of dignity and authority I had heard about them I begun to believe the moment I saw the prince. I nodded too afraid to speak.

The little light glinted off his smile when he said, "Well, I wonder how long you will last."

I stared at the empty room. I wanted to say that I had made it to the end. I made it. I never lost my nerve. Sometimes I came close to crying and never returning, but I lasted. I still came here to dust and be sure everything was in place after the prince vanished.

"I remain." I whispered walking to the window.

I parted the curtains to let a shaft of light in. I smiled at the bedposts remembering an early trick where my hand became stuck against the wood. I tugged my skin raw before my hand was released. In the bathroom, I had frequently found fish and amphibians and once a sharp toothed lizard creature determined to devour me.

I once had walked into the open side chamber and found myself rooted on the ceiling. I had to hold my dress up until Loki rescued me, after of course laughing for a good ten minutes at my red face, my falling tangled hair and my frantic efforts to keep myself covered.

But soon I had begun to fight back. I read books from his library to learn how to undo or negate his pranks. More than once I flashed into the looming shelves to find a counter to a bite from a snake he had left in his bed chamber or when my skin turned blue when I cleaned chemicals out of the water basin.

I liked to think that he was impressed when he didn't have to rescue me so often. I remember how sometimes I had come in to his working with a book on some project and instead of waving me out like most other warriors or royals, told me to get on with my work. After a while, fewer traps and pranks happened and I could enjoy more time in his library, especially when he was away from Asgard.

I touched the library door. No handle could be found on this door. Instead, circles in circle were carved into the door at eye level. Loki had showed me how to twist them to the right combination in order for the door to open. When he showed me on the first day, I suspected danger behind the door. But the trick came the next day when he changed the combination and it spewed foul smelling liquid on me for the improper combination. I learned how to step out of the way of the door if I suspected he changed the combination.

I reached up and twisted the circles into the combination it had been set since his disgraceful departure from Asgard years before. To my surprise, the door didn't open. It hadn't done anything else either - but the combination couldn't have changed. Loki had been escorted straight to the dungeons upon his return. He never came here. I guessed on five different combinations before stumbling onto the correct one.

Puzzled by what this could mean, I hesitated before entering. I noticed most of the shelves were full. But that couldn't be right. I had let Queen Frigga in here to take several of the books to Loki in the dungeons and I hadn't returned them. And I was nearly certain that Loki was the only one to be able to change the combination. And I was certain that he and I were the only ones bothered to learn how to open that door. That could mean . . .

I rushed forward and snatched a familiar spell book from the shelf. I flipped to a diagram - it had a complicated symbol with directional arrows. I rubbed my fingers together drawing the energy of my body to the tips. I then traced the symbol leaving sparks of gold light. I released the energy. A current of energy appearing more like wind left me. It traveled through the chambers moaning softly before dissipating. Nothing had changed. I didn't know what I expected. Perhaps Loki sitting in one of his seats giving a sarcastic applause and stating that he could have erased all illusions without needing the book as a guide.

I replaced the book in its proper position. I like to think that I knew Loki's style better than anyone, not that I would admit that out loud especially not when it might reach the ears of someone important. But I cleaned his room for the better part of a hundred years. Rooms tell you about their occupants. I read his books. And books proclaim what their readers desire to have in their minds. I tried to learn his magic to counter his tricks. And a magic or a fighting style shows how people go about getting their way.

And I knew, at that moment, in my timid little heart, that the abandoned prince of Jutunheim and the lost prince of Asgard had not played his final trick.


	3. Chapter 3

Why couldn't I hold my head as high as my mother? Scorn unnoticed, insults unheard, mockery deflected like she was the impenetrable shield of Asgard. And on she would walk on, her sunlight hair the last glimpse of her.

Nope not me, I shrink like a dog from an abusive master. I was trying to catch a few moments to clear the tears from my eyes and get my hair back in its decorative clip. The other serving maids skirted around me none meeting my gaze. Of course they wouldn't, they hardly knew me. The serving maids and cleaning servants tended to work at different times and places. I just worked both, first as a cleaning maid in the day then came to do serving in the night. The extra wage helped me actually pool a little saving money. But with nights like these, no amount of money was worth it.

The seats I served were filled by the crudest and cruelest soldiers that Asgard could offer. And they decided that they could wage a verbal war with me. First off they had accused me of being a horrendous dark elf and no amount of polite words and tedious arguments would persuade them otherwise. And somehow in the middle I slipped that I might not even be a full light elf. From that point they kept joking that they had slaughtered my ill-behaved relatives and asked if I was going down the same bitter road and if I wanted to be killed now to spare them the trouble later. I couldn't even fight back with words, they were soldiers of rank and I was nobody. The worst part was that I had to go back. They wanted more drinks and more bread. And my mother would be ashamed if I retreated.

I took up the tray hoping my eyes didn't look too red. Slowly, I arranged the bread bowl in the middle and the drinks around the outside. I summoned my dignity and left the kitchens. It didn't last halfway through the booming hall. The soldiers made catcalls across the room as I approached. I felt my shoulders slump and my hands start to tremble.

"What took you so long?" Teased one with pale skin and two coal eyes.

"Yeaah, we miss'you," a thick drunk one grunted.

The drinks were snatched from my tray half of the contents spilling onto the tray, the floor and my dress. I pursed my lips trying to look firm without wobbly lips. But as I placed the bread on the table a large nosed soldier noticed my looks.

"Your eyes are red, have you been mourning the loss of your murderous relatives?"

Laugher crawled into my ears. I attempted to firm up my face. I don't think it worked because the laughter only increased.

Coal-eyes snipped, "We had a good long talk while you were gone half breed. We decided that you dad must have been a great ugly Jutun."

I closed my eyes trying to not react, these were honorable warriors. Or they should have been. Stiffly, I turned away. But someone grabbed my arm.

"We wanted an answer for that," Coal-eyes stated with a smile that wasn't friendly.

My eyes flashed fearfully around at them. I swallowed recognizing that they were too drunk and blood crazy to be sensible.

Weakly I asked, "W-what was the question?"

The large nosed soldier laughed, "She inherited her father's slow wit. We wanted to know if your father was a Jutun."

I shook my head aware that tears started to escape my eyes, "I don't know I don't think so. I-I've got to go."

The thick one grunted, "Sta'weel."

I shook my head pulling away but Coal-eyes's grip was that of a warrior. I didn't have a prayer of breaking that. I tugged.

"I have other tables to serve." I said recognizing the note of pleading in my voice.

"Can't stand being around your mortal enemies, Jutun?"

"Can't you accept people different from you?" I retorted. I held in a gasp. I had never spoken back before.

"What did you say?" Large nose demanded.

I stared my gut squeezed with terror. My eyes fell on Coal-eyes's forgotten drink. It was still half full and precariously close to the edge over Coal-eyes's lap.

"Prince Loki was Jutun. Then he went crazy and bitter because of bigots like you!" I half shout my voice rising and breaking.

The table was silent for once. The grip on my arm tightened making it tingle with numbness. Everyone by now had learned of Loki's origins, it couldn't be hushed after he had left in treachery. But nobody spoke of in the open halls.

Large nose soldier muttered, "Look at what kind of maniac he turned out to be."

I glared at the drink. Then heedlessly I retorted, "He died honorably, you should not speak of the king's son like that!"

Coal-eyes's other arm grabbed my hair, "Who's a serving maid to speak disrespectfully to honorable warriors?"

I used magic. Just enough magical force to knock over the drink. The liquid landed in Coal-eyes's lap. He shouted in surprise and released me. I ran. Ignoring all else, I darted towards the safety of the kitchens. But I didn't think I would be fast enough. I might have been a quick fox ducking around men and skipping around maids but a baying angry hound bowled through all the obstacles.

Just as my fingers brushed against the door to safety, I was yanked back, my scalp screaming. I screamed in two parts terror and three parts pain. Coal-eyes had caught a fistful of my hair and lifted me from the ground. My hands shot up trying to grasp his hand and relieve the pressure on my head. My scream echoed in my ears and I could hardly tell what Coal-eyes was shouting at me. Ungrateful was one of the words wedged between lines of cussing.

Then the pain ceased. I fell to the floor my knees beginning to ache from failing to catch myself. Then I was dragged to my feet. I glanced, I two fully armored palace guards held me in between them. But so was Coal-eyes. It seemed that we both were being prosecuted for creating a disruption or worse disturbing the peace.

I felt the tears creeping down my face leaving itchy trails on my cheeks. This day couldn't get worse, right? Things just felt as if they were cascading down the steep icy cliffs of Jutunheim.

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Sorry that this was posted a little late, my weekend has been crazy.


	4. Chapter 4

We stood outside the throne room. I trembled, I never imagined I would be brought before the king. Coal-eyes glanced at the guards who flanked the two of us before leaning in.

With bare teeth he snarled, "You say anything contrary to me, I'll find you and break your hands."

I knew that the blood had left my face. How would I work without my hands? But then again how could I lie to the king? I couldn't swallow. My mind went into a swirl.

The entrance doors opened. It seemed so vast and so empty with its solitary columns. We were escorted up to the throne, the only structure that hadn't been rebuilt in the hall. Odin stood with his spear near an elegant chair that had temporarily taken the place of the throne.

I forced myself to curtsy. I knew it looked clumsy and I felt as though I was going to fall over.

"Allfather," said one of the escort, "These are the troublemakers you were interested in."

He had taken interest in this? Wait - I was a trouble maker! Breathing was added to the list of things I was having trouble doing.

"Thank you," Odin said with a nod, "You can go now."

The guards saluted and left. Their clanging march faded leaving the hall too quiet.

"It is my understanding," The Allfather began, "That you two had a disputation of an unnecessary nature . . . This isn't how a good kingdom works. Fights among each other won't make us strong but weak."

"Allfather," Coal-eyes said with a great tone of humility, "I am a warrior of Asgard and sworn to protect our home. This little serving wrench insulted my honor and the contributions and sacrifices I have made. I was trying to teach her to respect those who bring good to our nation."

I winced but said nothing. My eyes dropped to my feet. I couldn't have met anyone's gaze if they had looked at me.

"I see. . . But it still takes two to make a disturbance. And I know that the servants have their own series of punishments that they receive for misdeeds. You don't have that right. Unbalancing the order only creates chaos. As punishment, you will not be allowed to be in the feast halls for the next week. And you will take up extra duties for the next month."

I peeked up. I hadn't expected a decision to come so quickly. And by the stunned look on Coal-eyes face, neither did he.

"You may go." Odin said directly at Coal-eyes.

"She's going to be punished too, right?" Coal-eyes quickly inquired.

"Go." The Allfather repeated.

Coal-eyes saluted and marched out. I closed my eyes listening to the sound of the moving armor that melted away like the guards.

"Child, look at me."

I did, very hesitantly not trusting I would receive mercy.

"He says you disrespected him, but from the glimpse of what I saw in my room makes me believe differently. You did not seem the kind to tread on authority."

I glanced back at the entrance to the hall worrying that Coal-eyes would fill out his threat if I spoke. But now that I thought about it, a punishment from the king would be more severe.

I cleared my throat and, hoping my voice wouldn't sound like a squeaking mouse, I explained, "H-he was part of a group of men." I swallowed trying to make my voice stronger, "they were drunk and being unkind. I - I couldn't keep them under control. You see the problem with a society so reliant on warriors is that-" I stopped realizing that my words could be an insult to the king and Asgard.

The Allfather, however urged me to continue.

I wet my lips and said, "Well, the warriors begin to notice they're crucial and begin to make sure they get the best of things. And everyone else whose simple unnoticed jobs are still necessary become undervalued . . . Everything is catered towards the warriors." I finished, not impressed but my own assertions.

The Allfather nodded, "I have noticed that as well, but for it there is no easy solution. Walk with me."

I hesitated, was it possible that though I came in for punishment that I could escape without one? I kept my head down as the Allfather led me from the throne room.

"I now recognize after a few days of thinking, that you said a few things in our last conversation that were of more importance than I realized at the time."

I couldn't stop myself. I peeked up at the Allfather, trying to remember what I had said. I had mostly blabbered nonsense, didn't I?

"But before I arrive on that point of discussion, I have a few questions that I ask you to answer truthfully and completely."

I swallowed at the 'completely' instruction but replied, "Of course Allfather."

The Allfather gave a little nod then continued, "Have you always been a resident of Asgard?"

I opened my mouth to reply immediately then I decided to think about my words more carefully. Something buzzed in my brain that this question didn't seem right.

"No, Allfather, I have not always lived here. My mother and I came a very long time ago as refuges, I was too young to remember where or what we fled from - except in fleeting nightmares."

"And how did you come to where you are?" The Allfather asked.

"My mother's beauty and willful heart won her a cleaning job here in the palace. She would double check all of the rooms or warn if rooms needed done as well as substitute for those who became sick." I explained, "I stayed at her skirts and help for a while until I became old enough to receive a full time job. I lucked into cleaning Prince Loki's room."

The Allfather's face twisted into confusion, "Most wouldn't say that it was lucky."

"For me it was," I stated, "My mother taught me letters and how to read and I learned about many diverse things from Prince Loki's books. I learn a little magic to . . . um, counter some of the things in the bedroom. After a few years of doing a good job, I receive more rooms and a better pay. Cleaning Prince Loki's room gave me education that I haven't been able to obtain formally."

"So that was a blessing for you?" Odin asked.

"Yes," I agreed.

"So why are you a serving maid as well?"

I looked away and my eyes found the window. The Bifrost glinted through the city, one of the few things that had escaped the damage.

"What I make cleaning is enough to pay for my living and a little extra. I was hoping to build up some extra money so I can get some education and maybe be more than a servant someday."

"A worthy aspiration." The Allfather commended.

I smiled at him hoping that he could see my gratitude. I could describe how much I wanted that dream fulfilled.

The Allfather gave a brief smile then directly asked, "You mentioned the other day that you could return a book to Loki's collection. Correct?"

I stared my mind numbly recognizing that this is what the Allfather had been working for.

"Uh . . . W-well yes."

"But the door into that room is locked."

I shrugged wondering the point of this but not daring to ask, "Prince Loki taught me how to twist the circles to put in a combination. It used to change a lot, but it doesn't take me long to guess."

"It . . . doesn't?"

I paused looking into the Allfather's searching eye. "The combinations follow certain rules. Certain symbols clockwise of others, other symbols to be lined up or at angles to certain other. Knowing these rules knock down half the possibilities. From there you have to be patient and guess."

He nodded, but he was no longer looking at me. He seemed very deep in contemplation. I looked out a set of windows we were passing. The Bifrost wasn't so visible from them but more of the buildings looked whole and complete.

"Arleen."

I looked around startled that the king would use my name. I couldn't summon an acknowledgement before the Allfather began to speak.

"I believe that it would be better for you to drop the serving job. I know that you will probably be frustrated with that decision but if your presence will cause trouble in the hall . . ."

I stared more devastated than frustrated. How could he ask that? After I had admitted I wanted to move into better things? I had not bought new clothing or jewelry for decades trying to save the precious money needed for schooling. I had bartered down to the last coin for my food. But then he was the king. He had the right to bring peace into his kingdom. I opened my mouth hoping I could beg but I could not find my voice.

"Trust me, this might not make any sense now, but it will shortly. Go home, get some rest."

He put his hand on my shoulder before walking on. I couldn't move. I tried to call out ask him to reconsider. But then I closed my mouth. This was the punishment he was giving to me. He had just delivered it more kindly to me than he did to Coal-eyes. I turned and feeling that I was fighting a mighty river, I returned to my room.


	5. Chapter 5

I shut the door on my room and rested my head on it for a moment. Half my wage gone, all because I retaliated. It was justified, I like to think Odin believed that. But it wasn't worth the loss of part of my income. I know Odin was trying to keep peace in his halls, but it still didn't feel fair to me.

I turned from my door and looked around my one room apartment. Kitchen and stove built along one wall, one table in the middle with two chairs, a truck of clothes and a bed made up of coats, blankets and cloth too small or too ragged to make into a dress.

I dropped onto the makeshift bed, trying to stop the fit of sobs from escaping my chest. I had money saved and I could live off the cleaning money but it would never be enough to get more than a year of education. Not with what I wanted to be. I wanted to be a Healer, to make people better and to bring smiles back onto little children's faces. But to be a Healer took many years. And study for that profession cost money than I had, and more money that I could make with a single cheap cleaning job – even if it was cleaning the royal rooms of the palace.

I felt tears slipping from my eyes. Perhaps I told myself that I could get a smaller room and share; that might save me a few extra coins. But that wouldn't be enough.

I got up and opened my truck, from it I retrieved a sturdy ivory comb and a silver circular mirror. I stared at the only things of worth I had besides a few dresses which I needed. But I doubted I could part from these, they were the last things of my mother.

I sat down holding the mirror so I could see my face. I had never been told by anyone except my mother that I was pretty or beautiful. But I figured that it was a mother's duty to reassure her only daughter. My green irises seemed only greener contrasted with my red crying eyes. It didn't help that my skin was flat coating of white. But my hair I liked. It was the color of an amber stone held up to the sun: yellow laced with red and orange. I pulled the cheap decorative clip out of my hair and set it down with the mirror.

I used the comb to work the snarls out of my hair. I swear it tangled itself up in punishment for being locked up in buns, braids or clips all day. When I was upset or discouraged, my mother brushed my hair as she told me her opinion and gave me advice. And then she would sing. I knew my voice never could compare to hers. Her voice spun rainbows. It wove tapestries. It summoned spring. After her singing nothing in all the Nine Realms could be wrong. But I could never calm or comfort myself the same way.

As my fingers worked on my hair, my mind worked on my dilemma. I had lost half my income. I didn't have anything to sell. I couldn't work serving in the palace. And finding another job would be difficult at best. I was just a refugee to Asgard. Mistrust was everywhere especially towards someone like me. I would get some respect from the status of working in the palace. But I couldn't fight which threw me into the worthless part of a warrior society. I'm sure I could scratch, swing and scream but that was nothing compared to warriors who had weapons from the time they could walk.

The comb fell from my fingers. My slow mind had finally caught up to me. Odin shouldn't have needed to ask about me. About my past or anything, his ravens, Huginn and Muninn, would have whispered of an immigrant in his ear. And my story couldn't be classified as common. He should have known. He would take notice of a servant who cleaned his room just for the safety of Asgard. Just in case a traitorous servant would slip away information to the enemies of Asgard. Odin would have remembered a security risk like me. I've cleaned nearly all of the royal and noble bedrooms in my time at the palace.

A feeling like a serpent slithered in my belly. The Prince's trick. The one I was certain he played before his end.

My hands fumbled on a cloak from my bed pile. I wrapped it around myself. I snatched up my comb and stowed it and my mirror back in my trunk. My fingers fumbled on the door handle before I realized what I was doing. Surely, Heimdall would have seen a deception like this. Surely, the warriors would recognize if their king was acting different. Surely, someone would know.

My fingers tightened on the knob. Or I noticed. I opened the door. I had to know. It was too much like Loki. I couldn't ignore it. Never a trick.


	6. Chapter 6

Thinking about something wasn't the same as doing it. My body trembled all over and I couldn't stop it. My breath and heartbeat sounded like it filled every corridor I snuck down. And I didn't doubt my footsteps rang twice as loudly as combat even though I tried to tread lightly. My mind began to spin horribly. I didn't even have a plan.

I stopped in a corridor section near the royal rooms. What was I trying to do? What did I want to do? I thought for a long moment. Flashes of a ruined burning city crossed my mind. I decided that I wanted to be sure that Odin was Odin and not Loki. Loki had been proved to be dangerously ambitious at the cost of everything. I darted into Loki's room. I imputed the combination and snatched the book I needed, stowing it away in my cloak. I hoped I wouldn't be caught with it. Thieving ended a cleaning maid's career. I had always read Loki's books in the safety of his library when I knew he would be away.

I closed my eyes forming a map of how the rooms interlocked in my mind. I determined which room was adjacent to Odin's chambers. I carefully entered the room looking around expecting to find nothing. I knew it was likely to be empty because it was used for visiting dignitaries. When no one seemed present, I shut the door wincing at the click. I stared at the wall, measuring with my mind. I wanted the spot which would get me into the chamber where Odin was kept safe during his Odinsleep, not any other part of the chamber. If Loki had hidden Odin, that would be an easy, safe spot to do it. No one could check, and the bed could be shifted by magic to keep Odin contained.

I put my hand against the wall. I had something of my mother's, more than the comb or the mirror or a few dresses, something that no one could take from me. It was a gift of her people, the light elves, and half though I may be, I still had it. Light elves can pass through objects. It was such a common ability that many of the buildings in Alfheim, the home of the light elves, didn't have doors.

Long ago, I had asked my mother to explain why light elves could pass through solid objects. She said that everything was made up of tiny objects, and those tiny objects weren't solid all the way though. Mostly they were empty space. Light elves, she explain, could align their solid tiny objects so they passed through the empty spaces of other objects. I took her word but I couldn't understand how solid objects could have empty space.

I drew a breath staring at the wall I intended to pass through. I still could turn back, return to my room and forget I noticed anything. But details popped out at me: the spell book on the desk, Odin fidgeting, the changed combination, the Allfather asking questions. Too many things to be coincidence, I finally decided. I sucked in a breath like I hoped to inhale courage from the air.

I pushed and my hand sunk into the wall. It was hard, my mother glided through walls, but I had to push and shove to get through anything. My other hand pushed into wall. The wall came to my elbows now. But a strange feeling crawled up my arms. I frowned but ignored it, I had decided to try. I step fully into the wall and immediately barraged by intensive heat. It felt like I had stepped into a bed of burning coals. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I felt certain that my skin was withering and wrinkling like parchment under the heat.

Then I fell out of the wall. I don't know how I remained on my feet. The fire and heat was gone. What had happened? I had never experienced that before, not the pain or heat, never when I pass through objects. Why did it happen? I gasped in relief, then I looked up. I wasn't in the Odin sleep chamber. I was in the bedroom chamber. And I wasn't alone.

The dark prince sat at the elegant desk, book balanced loosely in his hand. His eyes were on me and the very slightest look of shock appeared on his pale face. I gasped and raced back to the wall. I didn't care what had just happened, it didn't compare with what Loki would do to me.

But before I touched the wall, Loki gripped my arm. I passed through his hand, escaping but only temporarily. I touched the wall when he grabbed me, one arm around my waist, a hand slapped across my mouth before I thought to scream.

I swung and tried to worm away. But it became obvious that Loki was stronger than me. I threw myself to the side toppling over both of us. Loki lost his hold but it hardly mattered. We were a tangled knot on the ground. I tried to crawl out of the mess of limbs away when his hand pulled me back. Then cold metal pressed on my throat.

"Stay still or I'll slay you," hissed Loki.

I believed him. I froze. He would kill me, then, under the guise of Odin, claim I was an assassin. My shaky heritage would convince anyone.

"There, isn't that better?" Loki said in his smooth way, "Now we both are going to stand and I suggest you don't attempt something that will get you killed."

I followed his instructions and let his blade guide me to the seat at the desk. I sat under Loki's prod with his knife. He stepped into my sight range leaning easily against the desk as if he planned nothing more than a pleasant conversation.

I saw his mood in his eyes: curious but amused. I knew my mood: terrified for my life.


	7. Chapter 7

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I stared down at my hands wringing in my lap. I didn't dare look into his face. My hands crinkled up the front of my skirt in an attempt to stay calm. Not that it was working.

"What do we have here?" Loki asked pulling out the borrowed book from my cloak. "It seems to me that you had a plan. I bet this wasn't part of it."

And he was right. One mistake. I had walked through the wrong wall. I thought I knew the rooms in the castle. I still was too scared to look up. I heard the thump as Loki dropped my borrowed book on the desk.

"Though quite frankly, I'm impressed."

At those words, I raised my eyes enough to see the knife in his hand and the self-satisfied look smeared all over his face. I didn't doubt that his intention was to torment me like a house cat that plays with its food.

He pointed with his knife, "How did you get through that wall?"

I looked straight at him though I kept my mouth shut. This had to be some sort of trick. After so many years he would know that light elves walk through walls. And I told him specifically that I was at least half light elf. He was too smart to forget something like that quickly.

In a darker tone, Loki stated, "I asked you a question."

I replied in a faint voice, "Light elves . . . walk through walls . . ."

His expression didn't change for a long moment. I know that meant he was doing some fast thinking and concealing his thoughts. But knowing that only deepened my terror.

Then a smile curled his lips, "I have my people fooled, Heimdall fooled, I even have my dear brother fooled. So how are you the exception?"

Timidly, I tried, "Th-the maids know everything."

He chuckled shaking his head. "Try again."

I shrugged, "Something didn't feel right."

Loki touched the flat of the blade to my chin and lifted it. I stared back into his green eyes. I don't doubt that he could see the fear in my eyes as clearly as I saw the determination in his.

"Th-the lock on your private collection changed." I admitted. "And the spell book. And . . . The Allfather wouldn't have to ask about the cleaning maid who does his room. He keeps his eye on us to make sure we aren't stealing or copying important documents."

Loki sighed, leaning back, "Three blunders."

I decided he didn't want a comment for that. I waited knowing there was no way to fight him or outmaneuver him. I didn't have those skills.

He remained quiet probably thinking over how best to dispose of me. I tried to determine his mood by examining his face and body language. But his face remained thoughtful and his body relaxed. After several long minutes, I hazarded a question.

"W-where's the king?"

He looked directly at me. "I am the king."

He believed it. I saw it in his unwavering eyes. I lowered my eyes to my lap.

"What now?" I heard my voice ask, "An invasion of the nine realms?"

He laughed, the same laugh when I stumbled into one of his tricks.

"I wanted a throne. Now I have one. I don't need all nine realms. Asgard is prestigious enough, and it already rules as the greatest of the nine. No. Currently, I'm concerned about the well-being of my nation. It has suffered and it is my duty to mend it."

I swallowed. Was it a lie? But why would he need to lie to someone he could easily dispose? It could be the truth. But why would he bother with the truth? I had never been able to discern his truth from his lies. I just always expected a lie. But then again, he could just be insane like everyone says . . .

"Where's the Allfather?" I asked.

I watched to see if his eyes might flick in a revealing direction. But he just looked at me for a moment before he laughed.

"I can kill you in a dozen different ways and claim you're an assassin and no one will be the wiser. And you're worried about him?"

I, for once in my life, held his gaze and refused to look down. He stopped laughing. I liked to think he sensed my sincerity.

"The Allfather," Loki said as if he was considering the matter, then he flashed me his wide smile, "Well, I think I will to keep that to myself."

I stared, did that mean he would let me live? If he told me, he would have to kill me. After all, he didn't want me running around with such information. But if he didn't tell me, there might be a chance that he would let me live. But my spirits sank. He might not want to say the information out loud because it might be overheard.

Loki stood away from his leaning post and began to walk a half circle around me. I tried to sit still. I was certain he was measuring me and trying to determine how much of a threat I was to his plans. I hope that he just saw a crying hopeless maid incapable of standing against her foes. Maybe then I wouldn't be killed.

"I find something amusing." Loki began in a cheery but thoughtful tone, "I knew you because you cleaned my room. But in my short time away from Asgard, I forgot all about you. Like you were nothing more than the scenery."

"Good."

"Good?" He scoffed.

I explained, "The mark of a good maid is that you don't know they are or were there."

I didn't add that his forgetfulness and carelessness caused him to stumble. Because of his mistakes, I had learned that the dark prince lived and he was impersonating the king. Though I doubted that I would be allowed tell anyone.

Loki nodded at my assertion. He kept pacing around me. "What bothers me, is that you came through that wall."

What did he mean? Did he mean that he was surprised that I found the courage? To be fair, I was surprised with myself. But he seemed more serious than for a little emotion tick. Sentimental acts like that he tended to treat lightly.

When he only stared and didn't explain, I forced myself to prompt, "I-I don't understand."

Loki stopped pacing, I notice a flare in his eyes. "Are you so stupid to believe that assassins haven't tried the very thing you just did? Representatives from other worlds have slept in that room. There are defenses in these walls to make sure light elves don't waltz into the king's room."

"Oh."

So that explained the strange heat. I couldn't manage to say anymore. Defenses in Asgard usually killed transgressors. I should be dead.

"Oh?" A smile crept onto the dark prince's face, "You didn't know . . . well . . ."

But before he continued, a knock rang from the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki's head snapped to the direction of the door like a hunting dog alerted to its prey. Then he glanced back at me. He gave me a little smirk and put a single finger to his lips. Then his illusions wrapped around him and he was the Allfather.

"Enter."

A palace guard opened the door. "A matter of importance, Allfather."

"What is it?" The fake Allfather asked.

"Freyr of Alfheim is here."

I knew I looked stunned. The ruler of Alfheim or any nation very rarely just showed up. Usually there were planning, meetings, banquets, preparations. But Loki didn't seem affected by this announcement. That or his illusion acted independent of his emotions.

"Seems like a matter I will need to handle." He didn't even glance backwards before he left the room.

The guard shut the door. He hadn't noticed me at all. Then I realized that Loki must have cast an illusion to make me invisible.

Then I shot out of the seat. But before I took a step, fear gripped me. What if this was a trick of Loki? What if he wanted me to run? I stared at the door wondering if he was waiting of the other side of it. I squeezed my eyes shut. I decided that I didn't care. I wanted to run. I didn't know where I wanted to go, or even where I could go. But I couldn't just wait for death.

I took two quick steps and then found myself on the floor, my front aching. I sat up, rubbing my face. Once my mind caught up I stood and put my hand in front of me. It would only go so far. Loki had erected a magical barrier. So he didn't want me leaving. I put my other hand on the barrier.

I watched the ripples of energy that began at my hands. If I could get through the walls, was it possible that I could make it through this barrier? The other one was supposed to stop me, probably kill me. Would this one do any less?

I closed my eyes. My mother wouldn't forgive me if I gave up. I took a breath glared at the barrier. I threw myself into it, willing myself to pass through. But unlike the wall it didn't give. I wanted to scream in frustration. Then I felt a tingling in my arms. I gasped the second I fell through. In the briefest of moments, in the time it took me to crash to the ground, I felt bitter cold. Freezing wind whipped around me, penetrating through my skin and muscle. Then I lay in warm grass.

I lifted my head. I knew where I was but could not imagine how I arrived here. I sat up looking around the palace gardens. Flowers from the nine worlds held their heads up to the sun showing their endless colors. Bushes clumped in hedges or trimmed in interesting shapes. Trees reached high, but not as high as the glass ceiling which maintained a constant growing climate.

I stumbled to my feet. I still couldn't figure out how I ended up in the gardens. Then I realized it didn't matter. I needed to run. But where? Loki had control of all of Asgard. And with this realm's most recent victories, on no world I could be safe. I almost collapsed with the hopelessness. I needed to tell someone, so someone besides myself would know what Loki had done. Then I realized that it would be hard to convince someone. It would be calling Prince Thor, the honorable hero of the nine realms, a liar.

Perhaps I could go to one of Thor's friends, the Warriors Three or Sif. They knew Loki enough that they would believe he could pull off this deception. Now I had to convince one of them and maybe I had a chance to survive this. Hogan would have been a good choice if he hadn't been in Vanaheim. I never had true trust or liking of Fandral and Volstagg never stuck me as the most intelligent fellow. Which left me with Sif. At least she would be easy to find even at this late hour. She would be at some training hall, and I had a good idea which.

I took off at a run, straight in the direction of the nobles' training field.


	9. Chapter 9

The clang of metal on metal rang in my ears along with humming of advanced energy weapons. Though the sun had set and darkness cloaked the field, many warriors were training. My eyes scanned the many warriors locked in sparring. I thought a woman warrior would be obvious among a sea of men. It was not. There were far more warriors here than I thought would train at night. I stared a little horror rising. She might not be here. I swallowed panic. I wished that the meeting with Freyr lasted a long time.

I strolled past battling pairs and those practicing forms. I hoped that I looked casual, like a message bringer, instead of a jumpy rabbit convinced a dog was at her tail. My eyes kept sweeping and my heart prayed that I could find her.

A hand gripped my arm. I tried to yank away, but it was a warrior's grip. I looked up at the face and his features jumped out at me like a nightmare. Coal-eyes.

He grinned a smile that contained no warmth, "I didn't think I would see you so soon."

"Let go," I commanded hoping my voice wouldn't waver, "It is urgent."

"Likely." He half snarled. "Do you know what you did?"

I tried to pull away. But instead he dragged me closer. My heart sped in fear.

"My friends laugh at me! And you have no idea what kind of duties I have to do. I'll never have time for myself."

His grip tightened and I winced at the pain coming up my arm. "Let go," but it came out as a whimper as I tried to pull away.

"Not until you've paid," he hissed.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I focused my flying thoughts into a one. I focused on passing out of his hand. I pulled. He yelped in surprise and I fell backward. I crashed onto stone sending spikes of pain up my back. I looked up in fear and tried to scramble to my feet before his confusion became anger.

"You'll pay for that too." He drew his sword.

My eyes grew wide. He truly intended to use it against me. I stumbled but failed to rise as his sword rose.

But before it came down a voice yelled, "Stop!"

He looked around and froze. I turned my eyes to my savior. And there she was, in her training gear, her black ponytail hair swinging gently and she strode towards us. The Lady Warrior Sif stopped right in front of Coal-eyes. She might have been a few inches shorter but no less intimidating with her hostile eyes.

"You are a warrior of Asgard!" She exclaimed, "Your weapon should be lifted in the defense of the people, not to belittle and bully them."

Coal-eyes stammered – he didn't seem to have story formed yet. Sif grabbed my arm and dragged me up.

"Don't go abusing your weapon or it will be taken away." Sif warned Coal-eyes as she led me away.

I like to think the look on his face was that of pure frustration. Sif helped me brush off the dirt from my dress. She was grumbling words under her breath that I couldn't understand. Finally, after we had left the training field she addressed me.

"What were you even doing on the training field? You are no warrior." She asked.

Before I could inform her that I was looking for her, she continued.

"Never mind. Are you well?"

I shook my head and blurted out, "Listen, you need to know, and I know it's crazy but-"

"Arleen of the Ljósálfar?"

I turned and felt everything - my body, my breath, my heart - freeze. A half dozen palace guards marched towards us. I was too late. I snapped back to Sif deciding to warn her when the guards surrounded us, weapons directed at me.

"Not a word!" One of them ordered.

I hung my head. If I tried to speak, I would be silenced with the words never leaving my lips. Loki won.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sif demanded.

"This woman is under arrest by order of the Allfather." The guard explained.

Sif's eyebrows raised and she looked at me. I like to think that she didn't believe it. But I couldn't raise my eyes to hers. A guard stepped forward a set of handcuffs in his hands. I recognized that kind of handcuffs. They had been made to prevent light elves from passing through objects. I felt tears prickle my eyes at the cuffs clicked around my wrists. I hoped that wherever my mother was, she couldn't see me right now.

Sif asked, "Where are you taking her?"

"To the dungeons, as the Allfather commanded." The same guard answered.

Sif turned to me quickly, "What were you about to tell me?"

I shook my head. It was too late. I thought she saw that in my despair. She stepped back but I swear it was concern that danced on her face. The guards surrounded me in a box like I was a high class prisoner. Their rhythmic marching set the tone on my capture.

I had lost.

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